


Finding Some Soul in this Town

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: Sugar Daddies [1]
Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, RPF Crossover, Threesome - M/M/M, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:25:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 16 year old Sam Winchester meets Jared and Jensen, circumstances forcing him to the streets to earn money. Prequel to <b>I live on the right side; I sleep on the left.</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	Finding Some Soul in this Town

**Author's Note:**

> This is an SPN-canon/RPF AU crossover. Jared and Jensen are not actors, but the Winchesters are still hunters (following SPN pre-series canon).

**FINDING SOME SOUL IN THIS TOWN**  
 **pairing.** Jared/Jensen/Sam Winchester  
 **rating.** So NC17, it hurts.  
 **words.** 5200\. I KNOW, RIGHT?  
 **warnings.** Underage Sam (16). Threesome.

 

Around midnight, the sweet smoke gets to be too much for Jensen, curling around his eyelashes and into his nose. Tipping down and to the left, he whispers in Jared's ear— _I'll be back, just need some air_.

Outside, the Texas summer night isn't much of a relief but it lets the pungent cigar smoke dissipate and Jensen fills his lungs with humid air. Propped against the stone wall, Jensen's body vibrates with the deep rhythmic bass coming from inside—the cigar bar's atmosphere wasn't helping Jensen relax after a long week. If he had his way, he'd be home with his partner—comfortable and intimate—not grabbing a few shreds of upscale nightlife.

A pebble skitters and skips across the sidewalk at Jensen's feet. He checks to the right and sees a man—no, a _kid_ —slouched at the corner, shuffling his feet. No telling how long he's been there without Jensen noticing. Jensen can tell the boy is tall even with his frame folded against the building, limbs stretched just this side of gangly, but what Jensen can see of his shadowed face is beautiful. Notices that his hands are clenched in the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt and his sharp eyes never waver from Jensen. That stare is hungry, a little desperate, and Jensen feels the sharp, unpleasant realization of just what the boy is doing out here.

Another minute passes in the stare-off until Jensen sighs. "How old are you, kid?"

The boy startles, so caught up in watching.

"Sixteen."

Not even thinking to lie, Jensen can tell. He must be really new to the streets, or else a phenomenal actor to carry such naivete. Though the way the boy flinches and falls back when Jensen pulls out his money clip lends to the former.

"Look, here's a hundred bucks." Jensen offers him a crisp folded bill, but he gets only hesitation. "No strings, just buy yourself some food and a room for a few nights."

"I don't—I can earn it." The hint of confidence in the boy's voice make Jensen wonder.

"I'd rather you just head out, kid. This part of town isn't the best."

"I can handle myself." Where a real pro would turn that line into a dirty promise, this kid is all genuine. Not that Jensen particularly cares.

"Sure. What's your name?"

"Sam." Again, too quick.

Jensen laughs, scratchy from the smoke still clinging in his throat. "Maybe you should start lying, Sam."

The bar door creaks open to Jensen's left, spills out smoke and a well-suited pair of men into the night. Sam's speculative eyes track them down the sidewalk.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

Less than a blink and Sam's suddenly a lot closer, edging Jensen back against the jutting stone wall. 

"Three hundred, whatever you want," he promises, hot breath a temptation on Jensen's cheek.

"Jesus Christ, kid—"

"Sam."

"Sam—" Jensen shoves him away but Sam barely moves. There's decent muscle on his bones and he knows how to use it. "Listen to me, you shouldn't be out here." The kid's jaw is hard, ready to argue, but Jensen goes on, thrusting a finger into Sam's chest. "But, if you're going to do this, you need to ask for more than three if you're offering _anything_. Otherwise, you're asking for some serious trouble."

Whatever snip comes to Sam's lips is cut off by the door. This time it's Jared wavering out onto the sidewalk, already sweating from the heat and humidity.

"I thought you were coming ba—" Jared stops mid-word, tripped up by the slender boy pressed to Jensen's side. Jensen can see his partner absorbing their position, the money in Jensen's hand. "Jen?"

Jensen's sobered up significantly while talking to Sam but Jared's eyes are hazy and aroused, and he's checking Sam out from head to toe. And Sam seems to recognize the opportunity. When Jared's confused steps bring him closer, Sam sidles into his space, thin body touching Jared and Jensen—the corner piece slotting between to join them. The fragrant cloud of smoke that lingers around Jared dulls Jensen's senses like another measure of vodka. His mouth waters at the sight of Jared's hand locked around Sam's hips, Sam's mouth questing towards Jared's neck. But Jared is looking right at him.

"Jen—" 

Not a question this time.

It's not jealousy pulling Jensen's strings, spinning his mind. Jared clearly wants Sam—no words needed—but Jensen wants _them_. Both. Together. Jared is no where near thinking in straight lines, letting the boy rub off on him out here.

"Fuck—" Jensen curses to no one. Who in the hell labeled him 'responsible adult' tonight? "Come on, we're getting out of here."

Sam's focus shifts immediately, a poisoned arrow hitting Jensen and spreading the intoxicating effects. Jared's eyes are molasses heavy, slow and dark, and he fingers Sam's hoodie, desperate for Jensen not to deny him this.

"Sam—you coming with us?"

Jensen gets that Sam is out here for a reason—if he's not going with them he'll try the next schmuck to stumble up. That's tougher to imagine and accept than Jensen wants it to be, but this is up to Sam.

"And you'll...?"

"Yeah, kid." Jensen nods. He'll cover Sam's services.

"Then I'm all yours."

Jared isn't blessed with a lot of patience. Drunk, it's non-existent. Sam's in the S.U.V. and under Jared before Jensen shifts into drive. All he sees in the rearview mirror is pure pornography—drunken, mindless foreplay in the backseat that's sweeping Sam away. The boy doesn't shirk on enthusiasm, Jensen will give him that. But it's fucking unacceptable that Jensen's in the front seat being 'responsible' while indecent frottage goes down behind him. 

His sharp command surprises all three of them.

"Stop."

Everything stands still, Jared's eyes meeting Jensen's in the mirror.

"Wait."

The strings are playing a different vibration now, two simple words changing something in Jensen. Releasing something he's not quite prepared for. That Jared and Sam are _obeying_ forces Jensen's foot down harder on the gas pedal. They're pulling up in front of Jensen and Jared's building before the two of them are finished trading looks through the mirror—a conversation Sam's not privy to. By the time the valets have taken care of Jensen's car and the three of them are riding the elevator quietly up to Jensen and Jared's apartment, it's settled.

Jared's restrained, lingering closer to Jensen after leading Sam into the apartment, straight through to the bedroom. There, a few clipped but soft commands have Sam on their bed, kneeling forward for his audience of two. He hasn't spoken a word since the sidewalk, showing an insane amount of trust to follow Jensen and Jared here as if he'd known all along that this is where he'd end up. That level of trust—almost irresponsible—is an invisible aphrodisiac, and Jensen wonders how Sam could tell...

Their bedroom feels different with Sam at the center. The comforter is dipped and creased, bony knees spread for Jensen's eyes. With Jared tight to his heels, whispering need at his back, Jensen crowds close to Sam.

"Anything?" Jensen doesn't care if it costs him three hundred, a grand, or his soul.

"Anything."

He touches the sweet bob of Sam's Adam's apple with his thumb, fingers skimming Sam's chin. The promise is sealed with a kiss that immediately starts dripping with the young sensuality Sam possesses, Jensen's need. Sam's tongue is caught at the boundary of their lips, lured into Jensen's mouth. Jared isn't giving them any space, pressed too close, angling for the best view of their kiss over Jensen's shoulder as if he could feel what Jensen feels just by touching him from shoulder to calf. The sensation of Sam's mouth can't be transmitted; everything he gives gets stuck in Jensen's throat.

He pulls away. Within the same breath Jared is there to swallow the rest of Sam's exhale. More like an attack, Sam's lips and mouth are thoroughly taken to catch anything Jensen left behind.

It's unlike anything he could have imagined, watching Jared rock into Sam as his fingers find weaknesses to exploit. Jensen wants Jared to—no, he wants Sam to just—

"Enough." Jensen's fingers dig hard into Jared's stomach, dragging him back. As if Jensen has no control over his actions, yet _control_ is all he can think about. "Jay, stay here and Sam, I want you to strip for us."

Jared gives first, anchored to Jensen though Sam's body is a siren's call—sinful and deadly. Sam is slower but his eyes show Jensen that he doesn't intend to say no. The boy is theirs tonight—in Jensen's hands now.

Nerves show at first, but Sam hides them in panting breaths, letting his darkened eyes say what Jensen wants to hear. It's possible that Sam's clothes haven't seen better days, hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs, but they're clean and Sam folds them carefully in a pile. Smart kid—Jensen knows the pain of losing a good shirt or your last pair of socks. 

For every part of Sam's body that's exposed, Jared works Jensen over the way he probably wants to be touching Sam, getting rid of Jensen's shirt in the process. Standing behind him, Jared's fingers rake over Jensen's bare chest, catching on muscle more defined than the boy's. Teeth edge into the soft skin of Jensen's neck though they're both focused on Sam's fingers dawdling at his waist above his jeans. Jared's quiet words slither into his ears, detailing everything Jared longs to do but can't until Jensen gives the word.

"Let me, Jen," Jared hisses, pouring his desperate words across Jensen's lips. "I'll make it so good for you—want you to see. Just watch..." What follows is an X-rated litany of how Jared could _perform_ : the things he would do to have Sam bending and moving with him. Dirty, sweet promises that are sweetened further by Jared's wine-bitter breath. Every slurred possibility sounds better than the last, until Jensen's brain decides actions are more appealing. As one, he and Jared move towards Sam, all that fresh young muscle laid out.

But the boy's face is a mirror for Jensen—the inevitable second-guess and split second of fear that Jared misses, but Jensen can't.

"You can tell us to stop." Jensen offers. Beside him, only inches from Sam, Jared whines but Jensen knows he can bring Jared to heel if Sam wants out. The boy shakes his head, hair swinging over his brow, and reaches for Jensen's hand, bringing it to his stomach.

If sight is a wonder, touching Sam could do Jensen in. Sam's figure goes hard to soft across the span of Jensen's palm—his firm, developing upper body slowly encroaching on his pillowy belly left over from youth. Jensen wants to push his fingers underneath, pull apart the pieces making up Sam and see how they fit together to create this fascinating boy, but he settles for removing the last of Sam's clothing. Worn jeans, tight across his thighs, get pushed down and tossed on Sam's pile.

"Look at his cock." Jared's whispering as if they're alone, like Sam's not flushed and breathing in front of them. "So fucking beautiful, Jen."

It is. Jensen's fingers close around it, Jared leaning in to drag his lips along the jut of Sam's shoulder. Sam inhales sharply, holding it as his cock bobs in Jensen's hand, lengthening to a slender, solid erection with a mouthwatering pink head. Jared has been and always will be the most attractive man to turn Jensen's eye, but Sam's a different act altogether. There's something of Jared in Sam—the tilt of his head, the line of his collarbone.

"Oh shi—" Sam rears forward under Jensen's hands and Jared's belly-deep moans mean he's been staring for too long. Sam's cock is already in Jared's mouth, leaving the sensitive skin from hip to groin open for Jensen. His lips follow Jared's, kissing his boyfriend's stretched mouth at every opportunity. He tastes them both at once, Jared's spit flavoring Sam's skin, dripping down into soft pubic hair. It's barely enough, Jared keeps edging him out, chin bumping Jensen out of the way while he's swallowing around Sam. Messy and wet, Jared's trying to do everything at once and Sam doesn't know what to react to.

"Slower, Jay." The command falls softly from Jensen's lips. As before, Jared's eyes snap to him immediately, sending a novel thrill singing through Jensen. "Nice and easy—let him enjoy it."

Jared delivers, working the crown over and under with his tongue, long licks that let Sam ease into the pleasure when it's not threatening to overwhelm him. It's amazing to watch Jared commit himself to making Sam feel good. Jensen's seen streaks of exhibitionism in Jared before—lingering touches in crowded bars, kissing where anyone could see, all leading to Jared and Jensen sliding to third base before they're even home. There's never been an opportunity like this before, and Jensen imagines that if it hadn't been _Sam_ on that sidewalk, they wouldn't be here.

And being _here_ is amazing. It would be one thing if Jared lost himself in Sam, forgot about Jensen's breathy commands, but Jared keeps Jensen in his sights—always waiting for his next instruction.

"Fit him in all the way," he requests, eyes drawn to the inches disappearing into Jared's mouth. "Know you want it, Jay."

There's something intoxicating about having their pleasure in his hands, the way they're performing to his whims. He doesn't move far, fingertips drifting up and down along Sam's right thigh to feel every shiver and shake. When Jensen wants a taste, Jared gives him room and strips off his tailored shirt, the dark gray material clashing with the hardwood floor where it drops. Sam's fingers sink into Jensen's hair, the initiative both surprising and arousing. Jensen doesn't want to give this up but he's already chosen his role.

"Jay—" Jensen catches him while he's unbuttoning his slacks, belt already snaked over a chair. "Kiss Sam again."

Jared's definition of a kiss differs from Jensen's. His momentum pushes Sam back onto the satiny, Egyptian cotton comforter, folds billowing out around their bodies, and Jared's pants are loose around his hips. Jensen kicks off his pants and kneels up onto the bed, riding the waves as Jared and Sam rock and thrust against each other. Sam's tongue is putting up a good fight but Jared is a master, capable of bringing Jensen to ruin over and over again with his mouth. The boy is nearly folded in half under Jared's weight, legs akimbo on either side of Jared's hips but Sam isn't fighting. He's sinking deeper and deeper under Jared's command and Jensen's eye, using his spread thighs to shimmy Jared's pants further down as if he wants Jared naked as badly as Jensen does.

The resulting sight is even better—one body Jensen loves and knows better than his own hand, and another he's quickly becoming infatuated with. Even under the haze of alcohol, Jared is focused, riding the grooves of Sam's young body. Jensen lets it happen, the sounds they're making wash over him like a warm breeze that heats his cheeks.

"I have—in my jeans," Sam whispers to Jensen while Jared's distracted with the boy's chest. Bite marks and reddened imprints already cover Sam's young musculature, blood drawn to the skin's surface wherever Jared's mouth has been.

"Jen, please...." Jared must know what Sam's talking about, his eager fingers dipping behind Sam's heavy cock to that sensitive space behind.

Tucked in the back pocket of Sam's jeans, Jensen finds a condom and a kinked packet of lube—a hastily put together kit for a night on the streets. Again, Jensen can't help but wonder why Sam was out on that corner but he hopes Sam realizes just how lucky he is that he ended up here with them. For a kid like Sam, evil could lurk around any corner or behind the friendliest smile.

"Jensen."

It's the first time Sam has called him by name, reaching out for him across the bedspread. Pinned under Jared, Sam can't move. Jensen knee-walks to him, clumsy on the bed.

"Want you," Sam says just before Jensen's lips touch his cheek. Jared looks up at them, all dark eyes and messy lips, and Sam adds, "Want you _both_."

This could all be an act, but if it is, Sam's better than anyone Jensen has ever seen. And in this moment he doesn't care. Why should he when _this_ is the offer on the table?

Jensen kneels beside Sam and lays his hands on the soft belly while Jared uses up every drop of lube getting three fingers into Sam. The boy needs the prep—he tenses every time Jared moves his fingers until they're sliding easily in and out. Looking down, Jensen can see Sam's pink rim stretched wide—if he _is_ a street kid he hasn't been working for long, his body's too fresh—and the clear gel leaks around Jared's hand. Sam's face gradually loses the lines drawn by awkwardness and pain, relaxing into pleasure as he starts riding back on the invading fingers.

"How does it feel?" Jensen needs to know.

"Not gonna fit," Jared mutters but he's not deterred. Jensen can see the bones of his wrist flexing, Jared's fingers scissoring in Sam's body. "He's so fucking hot, Jen."

Jared detours for a new bottle from the nightstand to slick himself after putting on Sam's condom. Been a while since Jensen's seen Jared's cock covered with the tight stretch of latex; he fills the condom almost obscenely, snapped tight at the base. It turns him on even more to know that he's the only one who can feel Jared inside of him _totally_ naked, gets a piece of this amazing man no one else does.

Between Sam's thighs, Jared stops and looks to Jensen, drawing out the game Jensen has almost forgotten about.

"You want to fuck him, Jay?"

Jared nods, very little patience left.

"Nice and slow then," Jensen instructs and Jared obeys, gripping Sam's hips and pulling the boy up to meet his cock. Sam clings to Jensen as he's being penetrated and Jensen knows the feeling well. Jared is a lot to take but the burn is worth it, can set off a thousand little fires under his skin. Jared keeps his rhythm tempered with Jensen's encouragement, long strokes that get a whimper from Sam every time he pulls out and thrusts back in.

Minutes later Jared has to reposition himself; Jensen sees that he needs more. All it takes is a nod and Jared is hauling Sam away from Jensen's hands, flinging the boy's legs to each side. He's standing now, Sam teetering on the edge of the bed. It looks so easy for Jared to hold Sam's legs high and wide, wrapping his hands around Sam's ankles and moving them with hardly any strain. Jared is so tall, arms stretched to a wingspan, that Sam has probably never been spread so wide and wanton. Jared's grunting and Sam's gasping, Jensen stuck speechless in the middle. His hands itch to touch but there are too many appealing options. Jensen could stand and press himself to Jared's back, undulating against that strong sinewy expanse. Or he might lean forward and drop down, letting his tongue wander at will across Sam's chest.

But Sam's cock bobs with every rock of Jared's hips, bouncing against his abs. In seconds Jensen pours some of the extra lube on his hand and wraps it around Sam's erection. It draws Sam's focus back to Jensen, and the boy turns his head so he can mouth along Jensen's inner thigh and groin, more like open kisses than any kind of coordinated effort. It's exactly what Jensen needs, not ready to come yet.

Sam, however, gets pushed into Jensen's hand over and over, coming a moment later. Only able to imagine what Jared's feeling, Jensen strokes Sam through his orgasm and listens to Jared cry out as Sam's body surrounds him. Jared pulls out, still frenzied, and his cock is still rock hard and blood-flushed; he hasn't come yet but Sam lies limp and boneless at Jensen's knees. And Jensen suddenly _wants_. He wants Jared to fuck him like he fucked Sam, thorough and consuming.

Fingers slick with leftover lube, Jensen quickly sticks two in his own ass knowing that Jared can't wait. Looking down at Sam's half-open eyes and fucked out expression, Jensen knows he can't either. As soon as Jensen's on his knees, straddled over Sam, Jared's ripping off the condom and thrusting into him. Heat and hardness at one end—Jared fucking into him, chasing his orgasm— soft and gentle at the other where Jensen's kissing Sam. Two very different sensations colliding in Jensen's stomach. Sam is languid beneath him though he winces when Jensen's teeth snag on his bottom lip.

Even when Jensen's head drops, broken away from Sam's lips by the force of Jared's hips against the back of his thighs, Sam doesn't stop kissing him. Pleasant little pecks down his neck and across his collarbone, sharp contrast to the rough hand Jared wraps around his cock, jacking him off with quick strokes. Jensen doesn't last much longer, coming in streaks across Sam's stomach just as Jared's shooting off inside him.

They collapse en masse on the comforter, Jared falling between Jensen and Sam like a huge, sweaty block, groaning as he goes down. Jensen's exhausted and Jared looks halfway to dead, but Sam's wearing a slick little smile.

"Okay?" Jensen asks.

"Yeah." Sam exhales on a long, steady breath. "I'm good."

"Good?" Jared laughs between them, dry chuckle from an overworked throat. "That was fucking..."

He can't find the words, but Jensen knows. "Yeah, it was."

Five minutes later Jared finally passes out, alcohol and exertion dragging his breathing to a slow, quiet wheeze. Jensen strokes affectionately over his partner's strong jaw while Sam watches from the opposite side of Jared's body. He soothes the scrunched skin on Jared's forehead, down over his brow until his face is unlined and relaxed.

"How old were you?" Sam's voice breaks the quiet.

Despite his innocence when it comes to hooking, Sam's no slouch. Jensen read the intelligence in his eyes straight away, and he's been waiting for this question. "Fourteen. I guess being a foster kid didn't agree with me—sort of had to make my own way."

Sam nods and snuggles into Jared's side, the whir of the AC kicking on in the room.

"When did you stop?"

"I was seventeen, and a guy decided I needed a job instead of a blowjob. He had a restaurant and let me bus tables for tip money."

"You liked it?"

"No, I fucking hated it," Jensen laughs softly, unwilling to wake Jared up. He's moved his hand to Jared's arm, passing light over his skin and tickling fine hairs. "But I never went back." Missing details are nagging at Jensen and Sam's open gaze allows him to ask. "Are you in the system?"

Sam shakes his head. 

"Then why are you—"

"Ran out of money." Sam looks away, long fingers catching a stray thread on the sheets. "And my dad's gone until next week."

It twists deep in Jensen's belly, Sam being left alone to fend for himself. If Jared were awake to overhear, he'd be growling threats right about now, but Jensen knows those wouldn't help.

"So this isn't something you do a lot?"

Sam's bangs fall back across his eyes when he shakes his head. "Sort of had an emergency. My—well, I was desperate."

Jensen doesn't ask him to explain. Any one of a thousand reasons can drive a kid like Sam—like Jensen—into the beds of strangers.

"I could've stolen it," Sam remarks.

"Or you could have taken the hundred I offered you in the first place."

Sam blushes and Jensen finds himself wanting the boy in a whole new way. Not desperate and dirty like they just had him, but slower—deliberate and caring. Strange fantasies in Jensen's head when he knows he'll only have tonight. The boy yawns big and sloppy, cheeks stretched their widest and all Jensen sees is sleepiness.

"Stay here," Jensen offers, Sam rubbing his face on the pillow next to Jared's head. "You'll be fine with us."

"I know." Said more to the pillow than to Jensen. 

Sam's asleep almost as quickly as Jared, tucked close into Jared's side. Jensen lingers in the darkness, wasting minutes combing through the softness of Jared's hair, then Sam's. The boy snuffles, rubs his nose against the sheet when the strands tickle his face but Jared purrs, unconsciously used to Jensen's nocturnal attentions. 

He drifts in and out for hours, feels it every time Jared or Sam moves: scissoring their legs, flopping arms over each other as they sigh in their dreams.

~

Tickling. Wet. Warmth. All over Jensen's body—well, not _all_ over. Pleasure spoking out from a central point, dragging the sleep from his eyes and the lethargy from his limbs. His dreams drift away and leave only the reality of a hot tongue snaking around his cock, down underneath his balls to where...

Wait, not one tongue. _Two_.

Jensen's eyes pop open to meet bright sunlight and his brain overheats. Sam's lying between his legs, sheet pushed down to the boy's narrow hips. He catches Jensen's eyes, flashing a dirty smirk when his lips aren't stretched apart. But Jared...he's on all fours over Sam, naked and gorgeous, bent low to help Sam work Jensen's dick like he's _teaching_ Sam. He uses his lips to lead Sam to the places that drive Jensen wild, that have him throwing his hips up close to their faces just for _more_. While Sam concentrates on the crown, ringing the head with little licks and gentle nibbles, Jared rubs his face on Jensen's inner thigh. His morning stubble is scratchy-soft on Jensen's skin, each prickle keeping Jensen from coming apart. 

Sam is completely uninhibited, smiling when Jared whispers a new trick to try and sucking Jensen with full enthusiasm. Jensen's so connected to both of them—thrown by whatever Sam does and caught by Jared's familiar touch and technique. They're kissing above and around Jensen's dick, so happy and relaxed, the atmosphere already so different than it was last night.

When Jared and Sam become mirrors for each other, mouths traveling the same path down Jensen's cock, Jensen can't hold back any longer. He's a little impressed he was able to hold out for sixty seconds, considering he's never had two beautiful men going down on him at the same time. It's an experience Jensen wouldn't mind repeating so long as it's still Jared and Sam.

Jared licks up the majority of Jensen's come, Sam wide-eyed and watching until he brings himself up to Jensen's side. The boy's mouth is sweet and sour from sleep but Jensen kisses him anyway as Jared gathers every drop of come with his tongue.

Morning has never come so sweetly.

All three of them linger on the bed until Sam starts shifting restlessly.

"You need to go?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry but I have to—"

"It's alright," Jensen says honestly. "We understand. I'll help you grab your stuff."

Jensen grabs sweatpants and one of Jared's t-shirts, comically big on his frame. He points Sam towards the bathroom and gives the boy some privacy while he's getting dressed. Jared sits up and stretches lean muscles and long limbs, throwing a glance towards the bathroom door.

"Jensen?" he starts, picking at loose threads in a gesture that already reminds Jensen of Sam. "Don't let Sam leave without—"

"Jay," Jensen leans over the side of the bed and kisses his boyfriend softly. "I'll take care of Sam, don't worry."

"I know you will. He's just—"

"Something else?"

"Yeah, something like that." Jared smiles. "Make sure he's okay?"

"I will."

Jared doesn't get out of bed, waving awkwardly when Sam reappears, redressed and nervous, and immediately darts out of the bedroom. Jensen's on his heels, catching up with Sam in the foyer. Shuffling his feet by the front door, Sam waits and Jensen can't stand to let him walk away.

"How about breakfast?"

Sam shakes his head, face drawn and tight. "I need to get back before my brother freaks out."

"At least hang on one second and I'll walk you downstairs?"

"Sure."

Jensen makes a pass by his desk and grabs a well-hidden bank envelope. Barely glancing at what he takes out, he brings it to Sam who warily eyes the wad of bills Jensen's offering, and he shakes his head again.

"Sam, take it."

"But I shouldn't," he mumbles, unable to meet Jensen's gaze. "You and Jared are so—"

"So don't think of it as payment," Jensen offers. He's falling a little more for this kid every second. It's dangerous but already pointless to resist. "We want you to have it. Believe me, I know what not having it is like and I want you to have whatever you need."

"Why?" Sam suddenly sounds skeptical.

"Sam, I don't know what your life is like—" Jensen gets a cynical little chuckle in response to that, but he ignores it. "But I remember when I was dirt poor and scraping by on less than nothing. I want you to be okay."

Spinning, Sam walks away until he's got his hand wrapped around the doorknob, ready to bolt. Something stays him and he turns back to Jensen.

"I'm not—I'm just some kid you picked up—"

"You will never be just _some kid_ ," he stresses, turning Sam's chin so he can read the emphasis from Jensen's eyes. Hurrying back to the desk, Jensen finds a small card and starts scribbling. He slips it into Sam's hand along with the money. "And I want you to take this—my information and Jared's. If you ever need anything, will you call us?"

"I—" Sam reverts to the lost kid again. "I might not be in Texas for much longer."

Jensen smiles and hopes. "You may come back someday."

For a moment, nothing's given away on the boy's face. Jensen watches for any twitch, any sign that they'll see Sam again. He has no idea what this means for Sam, for himself or for Jared, but he wants to know that this wasn't some random night with a young, enticing stranger.

Sam's hand falls from the door handle.

"Yeah," he finally answers with a grin. "I might."

 

FIN.


End file.
